Wednesday, February 26, 2014

47 Weeks

Arlo is 47 weeks and 2 days old today, and there's no way to look at him without smiling. Danny's birthday was last week, and celebrating it with Arlo made it a million times better. The kid is such a joy.

That's the effect of 32 candles! (Danny's actually 33, by the way, but we only had 32 candles in the house. Go figure.)

He makes every single day birthday-happy.
I have a million toys, but I'm just gonna play with this spatula. All day. Forever. And if you take it away, I'll scream hysterically.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

46 Weeks

Arlo is 46 weeks and 1 day old today, and look how awesome he is:

Jazz hands! Or at least jazz hand.

He isn't legitimately walking yet. He's still doing his random one-step-here, two-steps-there stuff. He's completely mastered standing, though, and he even busts out a little dance every now and again (seen above).

We were all super happy on Saturday, and I couldn't stop taking pictures.

He kills me with that little smirk.

And here's a gem from yesterday:
Baby à la gnocchi and pasta sauce. Could eat him right up.
I love the earnest expression on his facelike we're supposed to take him seriously when he's covered in pasta.  

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

45 Weeks

Arlo is 45 weeks and 2 days old, and here and there, he takes a couple of wobbly little steps. He first busted out this trick last Tuesday—at 10 months, 3 days. He can't seem to take more than two steps at a time right now (in fact, he's usually spent after just one), but they're the cutest little steps I've ever seen, and I look forward to watching him master this awesome new skill.

Arlo's still kissing us and mimicking us (e.g., he shakes his head when we shake our heads), and he's recently added feeding us to his repertoire. Last Monday, he was eating some Cheerios when I got home from work, and when I bent in to give him a smooch, he shoved a Cheerio in my face. It couldn't have been more obvious that he was trying to feed me, so I opened up and let him, and he was quite pleased with himself. Since then, Danny and I let him share a couple of bites of all of his meals with us. For some reason, Arlo enjoys it, and Danny and I think it's adorable—so it's a win-win situation.

There isn't a whole lot else going on. This winter hasn't been too kind to Cleveland, so my poor boy hasn't been leaving the house much. I bought him a snowsuit a few weeks ago that I've been dying to put on him, but it's just been too cold to even think about sticking a baby in a pile of snow. Over the weekend, I brought the snow to Arlo.
And it was very anticlimactic. First, he dipped his hand into the bowl of snow, screamed bloody murder, and jumped into my lap. To be fair, it was literally 2 degrees outside, so that snow was probably painfully cold. 
Eventually, he was semi-entertained by watching Scooter eat the snow, but he certainly wasn't blown away by it. I'd imagined him throwing snow into the air, and belly-laughing as it came back down on his head. Pfft. 

At least Scooter was amused.

Monday, February 3, 2014

44 Weeks

Arlo is 44 weeks old today, and apparently, I only took these two cell pictures of him since my last update:

Hanging out in Scooter's crate.
Searching his bin for the perfect toy.

Not because I didn't think he was cute—but because at any given moment, there was either a booger or some snot somewhere on his face. He's been acting fine, but he can't seem to shake this little cold. This morning, Luda's sister had to fill in for her, and we greeted her at the door with a giant booger on Arlo's face. That was a pretty memorable first impression, I'm sure. The booger was a good 2" away from his nose, which made it even nastier, but he woke up just minutes before she arrived, and I didn't have time to scrub it off.

I wish the main topic of this post wasn't boogers, but that's about all we have going on right now. Just so I don't leave you with that disgusting anecdote, I'll tell you that Arlo has been kissing us all week. I know I put that in his monthly letter, but I haven't put it in my regular updates, so there you have it—my baby knows how to kiss. He doesn't know how to make the "muah" noise or anything, but he presses his lips against mine and pauses for a beat before crawling off. How adorable is that??

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Happy 10 Months: A Letter to Arlo

Dear Arlo,

You're ten months old today, and I couldn't be more proud of you. Everywhere we go—restaurants, the grocery store, The Little Gym—you're the center of attention. Your extraordinary hair is undoubtedly a factor in this, but moreso, it's your charisma. You have a force—an undeniable magnetism—that draws people to you and makes them want to be around you. It's the same magic pull that attracted me—and attracts everybody who meets him—to your daddy. I'm so glad you inherited this trait from him, and I can't wait to discover more of our characteristics in you as time goes on.    

You're independent, too. If this is conceited to admit, forgive me, but my independence is one of the things I like most about myself. To an extent, I think this quality was forced on me because I wasn't blessed with parents who adore me the way your daddy and I adore you—but for as long as I can remember, I've preferred to do things on my own. You're the same way. Even your nanny, Luda, has expressed this sentiment. You steady yourself against furniture to walk around the house, just taking in everything you can. You literally spend uninterrupted hours playing with your toys and looking out the window, and I used to feel like I wasn't paying enough attention to you, but I've come to realize you just prefer to do your own thing.

Once in a while, though, you stop what you're doing to come visit me. You charge over and climb into my lap, and I savor every second of our snuggles. You've even started kissing me recently, which is my favorite thing you do right now. I'd give anything to know what you're thinking when you kiss me. I don't know if you're aware that it's a declaration of love, or if it's your way of getting as close to me as humanly possible, or if you're just kissing me because it's something you know that I do to you—but I love it. You've had a cold for the past week or so, so some of your kisses are pretty interesting, but they're worth every bit of snot that ends up on my face.

My second favorite thing you do is clap. You clearly understand this is something people do to express joy, and I love that you're able to really communicate with us now. Each little clapping session is like you're exclaiming, "I'm so happy, Mom and Dad!" You frequently clap while you're eating, and it makes your daddy and me laugh every time.

You're such a good eater. Mealtime has become enjoyable this past month because we've been feeding you pieces of whatever we're eating. It's easier than having to find something special for you, and it's so fun to see you try new things. You've never turned away anything. You love food! You've devoured every fruit, vegetable, meat, cheese, and noodle we've offered you. Your daddy and I like a wide variety of foods, so we're pleased you aren't a picky eater. Early on, we had great intentions of having your birthday cake be the first sweet treat to pass your lips, but we've been letting you have a tiny bite of dessert a few times a week. Interestingly enough, I think you like cauliflower more than chocolate.

We're obviously doing something right with you because you're growing right on track. You're still in the 50-something percentile for weight and the thirty-something percentile for height—which is about where you've been all along. Developmentally, you're ahead of the curve, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your mother. At the end of your 9-month checkup, Dr. Robbins said, "Okay, see you back at fifteen months!" And your daddy asked, "Doesn't he have to come back when he's one?" And Dr. Robbins replied, "Oh, yes. I got confused because he seems so much older than nine months. I was thinking he was already a year." Proud parent moment! We know you're smart, but we definitely appreciated that unintentional validation.

I guess this letter just could have said the following:  Your charm, your kisses, and more superficially, your wild hair, are all enough to make me weak in the knees. I adore everything you do and everything you are, and thank you for picking me.